


I wait for you (even if you are far away)

by Imaed



Series: Black Sails Company [1]
Category: Black Sails
Genre: Emotionally Repressed, Established Relationship, Fix-It, Flint deserves nice things, Fluff and Angst, Getting Back Together, Hurt/Comfort, Libertalia, M/M, Multi, Post-Canon, Self-Esteem Issues, Smart Silver, Suicidal Thoughts, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, mention of slavery, pirate utopia, unrealistic politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:07:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 10,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23518180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imaed/pseuds/Imaed
Summary: Somehow they win the war.Silver is King even though he never wanted the job, Flint came back with him to Nassau and stopped fighting for some reason, Madi left with war in her heart and no gently words, Max and Jacks have ferret a deal with the Guthrie so they can keep the Island.It should be the end of the nightmares. They should be finally free.But Silver has a secret eating at him. A secret he cannot keep : Thomas Hamilton is alived.
Relationships: Anne Bonny/Max, Captain Flint | James McGraw/John Silver, Captain Flint | James McGraw/Thomas Hamilton, Thomas Hamilton & John Silver
Series: Black Sails Company [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1692313
Comments: 9
Kudos: 48





	1. The 3 F

Somehow they win the war.

Max and Jack schemes are enough to secure their financial safety and political independence ; they ferret a deal with the Guthrie guarantying the pacification of Nassau. There is one condition: they must have a King of their choosing who will be personally responsible for the debt's recovery. (Silver is too numb by the recent events to remember how it happens, apparently he is King now).

On that blasted island, he had lost so much.

No ship, no crew, no victory of their own; alone among a crew he knows nothing about. He tries to stand and learn around the new emptiness. (He learns as quickly as he can but he remembers the ghosts and sometimes it's too much even for him).

Silver returns to Nassau defeated and down one partner. Madi was saved (of course she was, he wouldn't have settled for less), but she refused to give up her war (her freedom, her people). She left without a good bye. 

It's not all gloom. He learns about the new fullness too. 

By some miracle Flint followed him until the very end of his rage. He stopped fighting and agreed to return to Nassau with him. 

Before the Skeleton Island Silver had reflected how close he was from Flint (how it clouded his judgment). They grow impossibly closer, more tentative than when they started their partnership. They are prudent and probably wary of their good fortune. They knew how to fight together, how to think like the other. Now they learn how to let the other breathe, they have earn the trust between them. (It's strange how words change a world, it's strange how so little words can change a man. Silver admitted he loved Flint and so Flint came back with him.)

Now Nassau is free, Silver is King. 

(What the fuck? He never wanted that.)

Pirates, Silver learns, are not so difficult to govern (he is aware of Jack difficulties, he tries not to do the same mistakes). Once you understand their basic needs they don't get too antagonizing. Silver has resumed his theory in one rule. The three F : Food, Fuck and Freedom.

Well, most pirates, he muses while staring at Flint. The man must feel it because he stops his reading (is it another report from inland? Is it a survivor of his decimated library ? Silver cannot remember) and stares right back. It is oddly serene. After all the struggle they've been through Silver is more hesitant that he would imagine himself to be (he can't forget Madi's back while she leaves, he can't forget the fear when Hand had tried to kill Flint when they came back from their talking, he can't forget he had plan in motion to make Flint disappear). 

Flint marks his page (it must have been a book then) and remove Silver's own paperwork from him. 

"You need rest" he says.

"I'm not finished" protests Silver. All his morose thinking had a point, he is sure of it. He just can't pinpoint it.

Flint takes hold of his wrist and pulls gently toward him, Silver has no choice but to follow (the story of his fucking life). Silver notices how the candles light Flint's cheeks so darkly (he can't forget how Madi's looked so bright). Their room is cool and dark, it's a bit tricky to navigate with his crutch (he has already trusted the man until the very edge of the world, what's twenty feet more?); the bed is made and the sheets are fresh. He knows because his face has just sink on it. It's nice.

It's fascinating how silent Flint is since they stop dancing around each other (had they rely so heavily on words before?) Most of the time Silver doesn't know what is expected on him, he is new to this kind of love. (He is not.) (Hell, if they had been fucking at least Silver would know what to do) (They have - once - that's not the problem) (The problem is... they are so silent now.) (There is too much space for Silver's thoughts.)

Once Flint has divested him of his clothes and shoe he joins him on the bed, shyly, too far apart.

Silver hates instantly the space between them, he manoeuvres his leg to get closer. Still they are not touching. He huffs, feds up with his own prudishness; he struggles against his own fears and apathy and rearranges his limbs to put his head and half of his weight on Flint's side.

Flint exhales and relaxes obviously. (Fuck they are terrible at this)

Silver feels a hand on his back, keeping him close, not letting go.

(He has to let his guard down eventually.)

(They can do this) He closes his eyes. 

(They can have peace and each other.)

(They can live.)

(Just for a moment.)

He fells asleep by Flint's next breathe, contempt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahoy, I am very new to this fandom and yet it already possesses me.  
> This serie I hope will be done by the end of the confinement. I have already written the 1st and the second is on its way. I hope you'll find it to your liking.
> 
> I'm not entirely satisfied with the first chapter (they are kinda short) so stick with me for a few days, I will try to keep a daily schedule) and sorry for any historic errors I might have done.  
> Warning: this is very introspective. All the thought process are a mess and not always very happy. 
> 
> If someone wants to beta this they are more than welcome. 
> 
> Love and peace my friends !


	2. In the middle of the night

It's the middle of the night when he wakes up with the most terrifying thought in mind.

Lord Thomas Hamilton is alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so short I'm sorry
> 
> But the dramaaaaaa


	3. I miss the blue

Silver has been avoiding him. It's been three days and Flint has been holding on his temper. There is little to no no secrets between them this days. Flint doesn't know why or when it started but he has noticed how they are never alone, how Silver doesn't look at him in the eyes anymore. It bothers him. He is angry because he is afraid. He thought he could be happy, truly happy (for the first time since London). He doesn't want it to end. Getting angry against Silver is not what he wants either (it has rarely solved any problem before). So he waits for Silver to come around with whatever is bothering him (he is terrible at waiting).

True, they used to talk more before the recent evolution of their friendship (partnership, relationship). They are both prudent with the other (too much perhaps). 

The nights he convinces Silver to join him to bed they are on the same page again. They agreed on the very first day of one very simple rule: no argument on bed. When they agreed, Flint naively thought they wouldn't need to, there was plenty of time on the day to argue. (Now he wants to say so many things, all the words of love, of devotion, of faith. He is afraid Silver will just leave the room if he utters them.)

He feels rusty and inexperienced both (that is why he keeps quiet, they have always been so good at reading each others mind. Why is it so different now?)

Shit. It took them so long to get there, Flint won't fuck this up.

Except when he is summoned to Silver fucking office to be be fucking sent away on a fucking mission to appease the Spanish ambassador. 

"You'll take Jack with you" explains Silver, still not looking at him. Jack is here too with his smug face (uncaring, false, whatever. He is not relevant right now). If he dares to talk Flint will kill him.

"I am needed here" says Flint as convincing as he can, he reigns his temper (Jesus, it used to be so much easier when he didn't care).

"I need you at sea more" states the little shit (not Jack, he doesn't deserve the title). Flint want to (kiss him) kick him. He got used to order people around. It it wasn't so infuriating in the moment, Flint would be impressed. 

"I don't think" starts Jack.

"Shut up Jack" they both interrupt in unison.

Jack shows both hands in surrender and waits his fucking turn.

Silver focus intently on Flint right shoulder.

"You need to show them we are not out for blood anymore" he insists, changing tactics. "Other Captains respect you, they fear you. Whatever the reason they will follow your lead." It's too bad Flint never respond to reasonable arguments. Besides it's a shitty lie. (They both know it's not the reason why Silver want him at sea. Flint would have said yes if he had been upfront with him. Maybe. Probably.)

Flint growls, he won't be duped. Something is wrong with Silver and he won't leave until he is told. He won't be placate. Of course fucking Silver notices, he adjusts his argument, finally (finally) stares at him.

"It's just for a few days" he says (he promises). "A week top."

The wind is good, even if he has a bad streak of luck it would only keep him a few hours back off schedule. 

"When I am back" threatens Flint "we talk." (He wants it to be an order, instead it feels like a plea.)

Silver nods.

"Trouble in paradise" 

"Shut up Jack" 

(At least they agree on that.)


	4. Motion and stillness

Flint is gone and Captain Morgan waits in his office. He is starting to hate this place, he is been a King for a few days and he already hates it. Days are too short, there is too much to do. He empathizes with Eleanor whom retained the job longer than any of them so far (she hadn't bear the title but it was the closest the island ever come to have a queen). He is expected to take decisions about situations he has no knowledge about. (If he could just focus on the island instead of his own problems.)

Silver has turned the issue in his mind endlessly; he has tortured himself and he sees only one solution he can live with. 

Captains Morgan is silent, he knows better than to interrupt him when he is thinking. He is a loyal man; Silver (not for the first time) wonders how he became such a man others would follow. (Flint is obviously to blame). 

"The prisoner in Savannah" starts Silver, dragging each word slowly, "Bring him here. By any mean, at any cost."

Captain Morgan nods, as simply as that. 

"He is my personal guest, and will be treated with the upmost importance. No matter what, his well being must always be your priority. You will feed him, clothe him like you would a brother. If I hear he is been slighted I will insure the responsible party and any who would abide him will receive punishment."

Once again the Captain nods, unimpressed. One does not live and stay a Captain so long without hearing a threat and not taking it into account. That is why Silver trusts Captain Morgan. He won't ask question, he won't make a fuss; as long as the crew is prosperous and the orders he is given won't challenge his authority he will follow Silver. 

"You will leave by tonight's tide."

"Sir?" asks Captain Morgan "Most of the men are still recovering. We need to resupply the ship."

"I know, but you need to begone as fast as humanly possible. And right now I need you to leave tonight."

"This will take a lot of work" he protests.

"Better start now then" dismisses Silver. "I will notify Max you will need more than usual. You can pick any man you need from the Walrus or Jack's crew."

For the first time Captain Morgan looks uncomfortable. Silver is too, he hates being a tyrant but he won't sleep until this is done. 

"Bring him here swiftly."

"The men will ask questions. Even if they don't Max will" grumbles the Captain.

"I won't insult you by telling you how to manage your men. Let me deal with Max."

Captain Morgan leaves the office and Silver begs for his headache to leave with him. (His heart definitely does.)

It's all in motion now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow we have Max's opinion on the matter ;)


	5. At the end of the day

Max is outraged. She is! Captain Morgan came to her with a monstrous list of what he needed and so little hours to provide them Max outright laughed at him first. But then he gave her a note with Silver's orders like it was all the justification she needed.

Now, eight hours later, Captain Morgan on his way and resupplied, thank you very much, she is going to kill their newly appointed King.

She finds him at the wrong side of a very long line of people waiting for their grievances to be solved. (They are all working insane hours since they reclaim the island; this is why she is so angry, she doesn't need extra work on Silver's whim.) They wait in order, mostly grumbling under the oil lamps which've been setted.

She barges into his office, stops whatever conversation was going on and chases the stranger with a threatening glance.

"What on Earth was that?" she asks rightfully angry.

"Good afternoon to you too Max" answers their ‘King’ while massaging his temples.

“Afternoon?” she sneers, out of breath “the sun has been down for almost two hours. Don’t you want to know how I know?”

He opens his mouth to answer, maybe, she doesn’t care. She also doesn’t miss the surprise peep toward the windows.

“I know because I watch it set while Captain Morgan loaded MY cargo into his ship. On your fucking orders.”

He frowns and tries to interrupt her, again. Like she would allow it. She is tired, cold and alone. At this hour this is unnatural. She should be fingers deep into Anne, kissing her breast or at the very least hearing her adorable moans (Jack has the privilege of knowing her for longer, sometimes she just watch them and learn). She doesn’t have the luxury of free time since the beginning of their endeavor. She deserves to keep the little scrap she has purely for herself.

“Home is where I should be” she insists. “So next time you fancy giving an order without consulting me first, please refrains.”

There, she feels a little bit better already. Silver looks undaunted by her recriminations. Actually he looks suspiciously neutral. She can’t, by any mean, be called her friend but she spends more time with him now than with her own lovers, she knows something is wrong.

“Where did you send him anyway?”

She won’t have an honest answer out of him, she knows. Silver and she are remarkably similar in many aspects: they are both very stubborn with their secrets for instance. She could extract the truth from him but she entertains the idea of them being allies. It’s just bad etiquette.

She settles into the chair, there is no upper hand to retrieve; for all his fancy title they are equals here. He knows it. He cannot challenge her (yet).

“You should leave, I have work to do” says Silver. He sounds dismissive but she can sense the nervousness around him. He looks annoyed with himself.

There is not a lot that would so obviously bother the man. Max knows who is the first on the list (the whole island knows). Their return was both feared and acclaimed. No one knew at the time what to do with Flint (the one who so ardently defends the war, the one ready to dive into a raging battle against an Empire with only his sword and his Quartermaster).

The strange thing is: Flint is suspiciously absent from their new government (if they can call it that). He has a good mind for politic; she would know, she heard Eleanor talk about him again and again. She knew before any other could tell about their ‘partnership’; they aren’t exactly subtle about it. No one look so intently into another human being without reasons. Any other place would have hanged them, but this is Nassau: if she can love a woman without the whole city trying to burn them, she will be the last to judge Silver for loving a man. (By any account they are not the only one.)

“Who is it you receive at this hour? Is Nassau so depleted of charm all come here to look at you?” she distracts herself. Wondering how other deal with their relationship is too much effort at this time and she is resolved not to use it to manipulate him.

Silver relaxes fractionally, he knows not to trust the change of topic, but he answers.

“People are worried about the lack of food supply. We’ve managed fine so far but the stocks are declining. Without a sustainable trading strategy we will be risking famine. They are worried.”

“We can last” she protests. “We have farmers.” She is in charge of distributing the food, she is aware of the risks of shortage. With the domestic production they can last months, there is nothing to worry about.

“Sugar doesn’t feed people, which is what was mostly produced until very recently” counters Silver. She concedes his point. “Besides the ‘farmers’ are former slaves and refused to work if it means feeding the people who overlooked their previous conditions.”

He quotes ‘farmers’ with so much sarcasms, like she can’t hear the irritation in his voice. She was a slave a long time ago. She remembers what it is like to be free for the first time.

“You’ve been King for a week. You can't expect to solve everything in so little time. Others tried before you.”

He snorts; there is an loud knock on the door. Instantly she sees him go back to his persona, she sees _Long John Silver_ , proud, unbothered by the late hours, ready to do all the sacrifices to make their dream come true.

She smiles; her decision when she chose him was more born out of desperation than reason. Lady Guthrie was ready to send them to Nassau without a deal, she wouldn’t have bothered helping a bunch of ragtag pirates. Long John Silver though, she had heard of him, of how pirates from every crew followed him. And Max could control him (or so she claimed).

Only time would tell her if she had bet on the right man. The knock grows more insistent.

“I shall give you back to your people” she says. She has a bed with a gorgeous woman waiting for her.

Silver grunts and allows the newcomer inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so part two is getting a little out of control. So I probably started a much longuer fic than intended. 
> 
> Also a lot more political than my previous work. 
> 
> Should I worried?


	6. Business is business

Silver hasn’t slept in three days. It’s not the longest he’s been without but it’s too much. 

The island is on the edge of a riot, he can feel it, Max can feel it, any goddam halfwit can feel it. By some kind of miracle no one is ready to be the first to draw blood. He has more people shouting at him every day. He tries to make them all satisfied by the end of his talk (he can’t satisfy them all he knows. He simply doesn’t have enough resources). 

He has a newly found respect for Jack Rackham who tried so hard to rule over unrulable men. (Fuck him, he had a fortune at his disposal, Silver only has his wits.)

He receives yet another Captain, telling him again that without a hunt to keep his men busy they'll get bored, ain’t nothing more dangerous than that. Since Silver closed the only other means for distraction (and hasn’t it been a happy time to close the brothel) he better provides him with another source of labor.

Silver misses having only his men to care for (so little remains). He asks for yet another list of people he has to provide a good situation in a difficult time and the Captain isn’t satisfied with the outcome but at least he promises to keep his men in check just a little longer.

Trade is still an issue; no colony will agree to spend a dime on them, fearing Spanish retaliation. Flint is still in La Havana and Silver has no idea if his mission is a success or not. Money shouldn’t be so scarce a resources but Silver is hesitant in spending it too fast. (Except when he need to ship a fucking English Lord here apparently.) 

Silver learnt how to rule over men when he was a Quartermaster, he knows how to manipulate them, knows how to make them believe what he wants is what they want. What he wants right now is complicated (he want this island to be prosperous, its inhabitants to be happy and at peace. It’s not something one can achieve by lie or deception) (once again he needs to learn faster that is humanly possible how to become another man, how to mold his skills to the people around him). It shouldn’t be so hard, it’s not so different from his previous occupation (M. DeGroot isn’t here to secure his decision, Madi isn’t here to back him up with an insane idea, Flint isn’t here to believe unconceivably in him) (The best of them! What a joke.)

There is a feint knock on his door and he is tired (annoyed, resigned) of the room, he wishes for some fresh air. A petite woman enters with a tray and some food. He should be famished but the memory of hunger is too loud in his mind (he remembers how he alone could eat while other watched him avidly). He thanks Adeline for the meal but she is already departing. 

His stump hurts, he forces himself on half the plate of stew and a bit of bread, his head is killing him again. 

He should take contact with other colonies (the less civilized one, the one so very close to Nassau not so long ago); he needs a contingency plan. More urgently he needs to restore the domestic production of food inland. They can’t sell the sugar, once you pay for the working force needed to produce it, the price becomes prohibitive. (The numbers sickens him, they can’t even try to compete.) The crushing debt contracted with the Guthrie family hang above his head like Damocles’ sword. 

Roberts knew of course. The moment he had acquired New Providence he ordered ships of slave to be delivered. Silver will have to honor the purchase and free the slave (he can’t even think about sending the poor men and women at sea again, to be sold to another) (He has enough issues with Madi without adding another)(One she will be even less likely to overcome). Once it is done he will have more men who will ask a job or at the very least a place to sleep, food to eat. 

It’s an endless task (Flint would have a pretty story to tell, to compare him to some ancient poor sod. Silver doesn’t have time to read books but when the day ends, deep in the night, he sits closer to the few rescued from the fire. He can almost hear the page turning, like Flint is here, reading. He stays here until the sun rise, until Adeline brings him a breakfast he barely touches. It's his only respite). (Soon he won’t have this anymore.)

Silver just wants to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, mention of slavery.


	7. Imagine there's no heaven

Tom Morgan is not an imaginative man by any sense of the word. He was tasked to retrieve M. Hamilton from Savannah by any mean available. Fortunately he has been in the business of piracy for long enough to pick a trick or two. 

He doesn’t want to disappoint his King. 

It sounds queer to him, King, and yet he hasn’t met any man more deserving of the title than M. Silver. The man obviously hates it, it is the very reason why so many of them are willing to follow him.

He is ready to negotiate with his blade and guns if he has to. 

He shouldn’t have bothered. The plantation owner accepts his price the moment Morgan proposes it. He is eager to get rid of him and doesn’t hide it. 

He seems to be under the impression it will be his last transaction with Nassau, with Long John Silver. 

Tom Morgan privately thinks it is the King’s prerogative to decide if it will be the last time or not; he is not here to delude the man. 

He has no taste for politic; his crew keep him as a Captain not because he is fierce in battle or cunning in nature. No Tom Morgan is careful, he doesn’t take inappropriate risks; more daring Captains often laugh at him (Flint did once or twice) but his crew never staged a mutiny. He stayed Captain seven years which is, besides Hornigold, the longest in Nassau’s history. His crew is well fed, well rested, well fucked and he has no trouble hunting little merchant ships. 

So he knows when to keep his mouth shut and let people assume. One doesn’t need to be flamboyant to be a Captain, only smart. 

The man who is brought to him is small, shackled, defeated. 

Morgan doesn’t know who he is to King Silver but he will treat him like he is the King himself. But first he needs to be sure no one is playing him for a sucker.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

The small man barely looks at him.

“This is Thomas Hamilton” answers the plantation owner annoyed by the procedure.

Morgan doesn’t care what the man says, he is not the one who will hold him to account. 

He gets closer, tries to inspect the prisoner. Is he hurt? Not as far as he can see. Maybe a little dehydrated. Most plantation slaves are underfed and ready to keel over at the first wind. This man is not healthy but he is the most approaching.

Morgan nods to himself, if this is not the right man he will come back. He tells the owner, it seems to awake his new guest from his long slumber; he is obviously not use to anyone bothering about him. Good, Morgan would have hated to bring back a wreck in the shape of a man.

He follows him on the Sword without a word, but with a lot more life in his eyes. 

He is surprised when he is freed once aboard, Morgan offers the service of a doctor and new clothing. M. Hamilton refuses both. 

“You’ll be brought food as soon as we are at sea” says Morgan to make him comfortable. “If you need anything, please, let me know.”

“Where are you taking me?” is the only thing he asks.

It has been stated Tom Morgan has no imaginations, it makes him a terrible liar. He knows and never made the effort of growing a skill he has no talent for. This is the true reason behind his crew loyalty. 

“To Nassau.”

Even to pirates, honesty is a rare and precious value.


	8. Sleeping beauty

Flint comes back to Nassau two days later than expected with a foul mood. Gregorio Guazo y Calderón Fernández de la Vega, besides being a mouthful, is a young man, eager to prove his value. It took him the better part of a fucking week to convince him continuing his war against Nassau is a folly. Apparently, the tragic and mysterious disappearance of his predecessor made a solid impression on him. Flint hates diplomacy, give him a gun and he can take a city but Silver is supposed to be the silver tongue of their partnership. (Yes he did secure a treaty with the man, he is not inept. He just hates parlay.)

Anyway, he is late and grumpy (Jack’s word, he is lucky to still be alive) (however the quiet wouldn’t last, Bonnie would have kill him the moment he stepped off the ship without his chatty husband in tow) (she can’t close her hands arounds swords anymore but she would have found a way, Flint knows better than to underestimate a woman in love).

Silver absence was a constant pain, a reminder of what he has already lost. He was absent for nine days, sue him for being used see his Quartermaster on the corner of his eyes by all time (even when they are cross with each other). 

The poor excuse he had for a Quartermaster for the duration of his mission should be grateful he wasn’t thrown overboard too. Silver must be some kind of magician, he could read his mind and knew when to oppose him the right amount of resistance. He also let him steered the ship how he goddamn wanted to. Flint knows they lost at least a full day because his current Quartermaster refused to relay the proper instructions.

(Jack was no use, telling him to calm down and not solving any of their problems.)

“Go to him before you tore someone’s head off” he hears while tending to his last duties before landing.

Jack looks just as annoyed as he feels. 

“The ship” starts to protest Flint.

“Jesus, I got this. Just leave already.”

They watch each other until Flint finally nods. The longboats are ready to leave but he won’t run, won’t press the men to go faster. (It’s not about his image any more, but he doesn’t want his eagerness to be use against them.)

He takes the time to reflect on his behavior. Even before their partnership became more, they were barely separated. Probably the closest they’ve been from being apart this long was when he was a hostage to Eleanor. 

Nine days is a long time (almost as long as their new arrangement) and they didn’t part on the best terms. The beach is always busy in Nassau but the crowd is thick for this time of day. The sun is high on the sky and most crewmen avoids the hottest hours when they can.

Without context, it looks a lot like the distribution of pardon. They flock a table with two women, writing names on a ledger. (He technically wasn’t here, but he was told extensively.) A lot of them are barely clothed, their black skin contrasting with the harsh sun. 

Flint wants to know what’s going on, but it can wait for after his reunion with Silver. He crosses the maze of streets and stops at what used to be Rackham’s house (and Eleanor’s). When he opens a door he startles a young girl cleaning the hallway. Flint look dumbfounded at her (Silver hates the idea of using servant, what the hell happened in the nine days he was away?)

“Where is he?” he asks, his foul mood must show because the girl (she looks barely of age) points the office’s door, frightened. He should not have bother; Silver barely left the room before. Why would he change while he was away? 

(He is being unreasonable, he knows. What Silver and he have been through is not something that can go away in a week and a half. He lost too much to be reasonable. He won’t be able to outlive another loss.) 

He doesn’t knock and finds Silver deep in conversation with Max. He doesn’t care what they talk about. As soon as they look at each other, Silver forgets too. He takes his crutch and runs toward him. Flint is the last to judge, he is running too. (Max is here, he should be more careful, he shouldn’t show his weakness to her.)

They meet in a fierce embrace, Flint holds him like the most precious treasure (he should know he is the proud owner of one), cradling Silver head closer to his mouth. He can smell his hair, God he had missed this.

“Now that you are here he might listen” interrupts Max. 

Silver doesn’t bother answering, he is heavy in Flint’s arm; Flint never wants to let him go. He has to, he has good news to tell (his bad mood a distant memory), but later. Right now he wants to enjoy the weight of his love against him. A weight heavier and heavier. 

Flint is about to panic when he hears the most incongruous sound: Silver is snoring.

“Unbelievable” says Max. 

Flint manhandles him so the lax body is plastered against his own, more comfortable in his arms. He winces (his back is not as young as his spirit it seems). 

“Take your man to bed, he’s been a mess since you left” she stands and motions to the girl in the corridor. “Adeline will help you.”

Flint could do it himself, he is not especially comfortable with people in his space but he holds on his pride. The girl is quiet and unobtrusive, she holds on Silver’s side without a word and placidly help him to the bedroom. She leaves as soon as Silver touches the mattress. 

Flint watches her go, Max must have bugger off too since the house is silent. 

It’s unexpected to say the least (not what he had imagined for sure); he divests Silver as much as he can and finally lies besides him. Silver looks exhausted even in sleep, he looks paler and thinner than the last time he saw him. Not enough to be worth of worry but Flint knows he will have to be careful, might need to tiptoe around another conversation. 

Most days he is thankful Silver is so self sufficient, Flint can barely keep it together. Silver shows little to no vulnerability, Flint suspects it’s for his own benefice. However it has the undesired effect of keeping him away. 

What they could be together, united, is yet to be discovered. So many times they said they could do anything together if they put their mind to it. Flint wants to see.

He is not especially tired (it’s the middle of the day after all), so he indulges himself and gorges on Silver’s look. He syncs their breathing and let his mind wanders. He loves this man, no matter what. He is not a devout man, yet every day he prays Silver is not taken away from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff alert !


	9. Breakfast at Adeline

Silver wakes up gradually; he is warm, safe and the fucking sunlight burns his eyes. He needs thicker curtains. He growls and hides his face in the soft bedding. It growls in return? Fuck what?

Silver opens his eyes and is treated to a delicious vision: Captain Flint in his (their) bed. They are barely touching (it’s a travesty) but Flint hold his wrist like a lifeline. 

He knows he isn’t dreaming because his stump hurts (in his dream he still lacks a leg, it’s a part of him now, but the pain is forever gone). 

Did the cramps wake him? 

He usually hates waking up (alone), the feeling on his leg are always a little bit on the side of too much. His head, miraculously without a headache, spirals in deep thoughts he avoids during the day. He has slept during Flint’s absence (he had to, bodies aren’t meant to sustain themselves for so long on so little) a few hours at night, sometimes a nap in the slow hours of the day. It’s been ages since he felt so refreshed. 

Silver wants to put a possessive hand on Flint’s head (to keep him always closer) but he can’t. 

Because he remembers.

Thomas Hamilton is coming to Nassau. 

Shit. 

He was supposed to deal with this on his own, while Flint was away. Instead he was buried in more work and little time to process. 

He should be angry, at least against himself for creating his own inferno. He used to be very good at solving his problem: mostly by running away from them. He can’t run away now (not just because of the leg, he reminds himself. He wants to be here. He is committed to this man, to this island.)

He could have kept quiet about Thomas, forget about him in Savannah and keep Flint all for himself. (Who is he kidding, he hid the intelligence for a few days and the guilt ate him alive.)

(Now it’s the heartache threatening to do the same.)

Flint will be happy. He will be reunited with the love of his life. Silver is just the facilitator here.

“You are thinking too loudly” mumbles Flint. 

He is still half asleep. He looks like a hero of old age (Silver doesn’t read but he has a vivid imagination), resting after hardship. 

Flint will be happy and for now, nothing else matter. 

He should tell him, who is coming, but Silver wants this for a few more days. 

“I didn’t want to wake you” he says. 

Flint hums and his hands move from Silver’s wrist to his waist. 

“You should be the one sleeping” nags Flint (and what a curious novelty it is, being cared for by this man).”You’ve exhausted yourself.”

“There was a lot to do.”

A soft knock disturbs them and Flint tenses suddenly, but no one comes in. 

“That would be Adeline” mutters Silver as an explanation. 

“I’ve been away a week and a half.” 

Flint’s tone is stern, but Silver gathers it is more out of confusion than real anger. 

“I closed the brothel, she is staying here as a favor.”

Flint turns on his back, thoughtful.

“I’m not sure if we should indebt so much to Max” he admits. “She is not reliable.”

Silver smiles ruthlessly. None of them are reliable, they are pirate. It is in the job description. 

“It’s not a favor to Max.” He needs to start on his day. “Get dressed, breakfast is ready.”

They walk toward the dining room, where two plates are waiting for them with plenty of fruits, warm bread and creamy butter. 

Silver isn’t paying for any of this and is yet to understand where Adeline comes up with it. 

(He hopes she hasn’t trade favors of her own; the whole point of employing her is to get her out of the brothel.)

They sit and Silver asks about Flint’s journey. He suffers the recrimination of what sounds to be the most inept Quartermaster with a generous smile. It last for a good ten minutes before he is signaled people are starting to line up by a discreet knock on the door.

“Can’t she talk?” asks Flint curious.

“Actually she can’t hear” explains Silver. “She is also, very shy. So we agreed on a code, she knocks on doors a lot. It works for us.”

Flint nods but doesn’t add anything. The pirate life (screw that, most civilization he knows) are not good dealing with disabled people. Adeline is no exception to the rule, it was impaired on him she had been through a lot as a kid (and really she didn’t look older than sixteen); but she could cook, she could clean and she was discreet. Silver didn’t want a maid but he could have found a worse person to employ. (He suspects the girls have been training her.)

“I need to see to a few things but by lunch you should be able to tell me how it went with the Ambassador. Don’t think I haven’t notice how you avoided the topic.”

“There is not a lot to tell, he agreed to our terms” relates Flint.

He missed that sour face, the almost childish sound of his voice. He can’t help it, he laugh.

“Would Jack share this remarkably optimistic point of view?” he asks between breaths. 

Flint absence of answer is enough to renew his good mood. 

There is a second set of knocking, more insistent. 

“You are welcome to join me, I’m afraid you will have to get up to speed on your own.”

“A week and a half” growls Flint. “How much could I have possibly missed?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who still wondered: it's going to get worse before it gets better.


	10. More than a pretty face

Max is comfortably seated in a sofa with the ledger on her lap. She sees a lot of names, more than she foresaw. 

“Do you even have enough acres?” asks Jack. It’s a good question, when she saw all the names she asked herself the very same. 

Flint and Silver are doing their talking without talking look, it annoys her. Anne is annoyed at them all, but she is holding the carafe and serving them French wine. It’s an old bottle they founded in the cave. They have been savoring each sip. It’s not even a good one. It’s for the principle of the thing.

“Speak plainly” she orders them. 

“Not all the land will be arable” starts Flint. “But there should be enough.”

“Let me get this straight” sums up Jack, pointing Silver. “You gave away land to any man or woman who would ask for it so they can farm enough food for the whole island and you didn’t check before if all the acres available could be farmed in the first place?”

Silver shrugs. “We needed to provide labor and food. This is an acceptable solution.”

“You gave them for free” insists Jack. 

“I did.”

She drinks to that statement. She had disagreed of course. What was the point in partaking things of value for free? Silver argued it would calm down the Maroon’s grief; that gifting them the land (and to any other person who would want it) would avoid bidding against each other and creating resentment. It was not without merit, it was however not how things were done. 

“We will divide the island equally, so no one feels cheated on their plot” reasons Silver.

“You agreed to that?” Jack asks her with an incredulous face (it’s a bit funny how everything is a drama for this man). 

“At this point, we do not have the luxury of not trying” she admits. “If it works, then it would solve a lot of problem.”

“If it doesn’t…” argues Jack.

“Then we will deal with it when it appears” finishes Flint.

Max snorts (the wine must be more potent than she thought, she feels a little giddy); like they are dealing with anything. They just make do. 

Like Silver and Flint. Whatever happened before Flint went away isn’t solved at all. She sees how Flint can’t take is eyes off their dear King for a moment. Jack has noticed (of course he has, he is not stupid). He keep sending her glance she tries to ignore (they are so lucky they are drunk, this would be so embarrassing to see the five more fearsome pirates trying to talk to communicate at each other without uttering a word) (actually Anne must be sober, Max hasn’t see her drink a drop of the wine) (her benevolence is a bit suspicious). 

At least, Flint and Jack’s news from the Spanish embassy are good ones. The embargo they maintained on Nassau has ended thanks to both Flint’s stubborn streak and Jack’s tact. None of them knows how to take no for an answer (it might save them all in the end).

“A bloody island full of the best sailors in the world” moans Jack “and we turn them into farmers.”

She stands abruptly, forgetting about the ledger. 

“Bordel” she lets out. “This is it!”

They all look at her like she is deranged. 

“Sailing companies!” she cries out. “We could convey goods from colony to colony. Safe from any pirates.”

“We can’t warrant for that. There will always be a risk, even if it doesn’t come from Nassau” argues Flint.

Godammit he is right.

“Actually” contradicts Silver. “It’s doable. I made contacts, in case the Spanish treaty would not be ratified. We could send them representative, negotiate parlays.”

Flint stares at him half in awe, half affront he dared think he would fail him. Max would know, she feels the same ambivalence about not being included in this brilliant plan. 

“We could make our terms a tad cheaper since we wouldn’t charge as much in insurance fee against piracy” proposes Jack, warming up to the idea. 

“Keeping other companies out of competition by tipping other parties” laughs darkly Flint. “Carrying their hunt with respectable goods.”

This is ambitious but it could work. 

“The Black Sails Company” muses Silver almost dreamlike. It makes Anne snorts, she serves another round of wine. She looks so focused on the task it takes this long to Max to realize she is training her hands; they were so impaired she could barely hold anything without it falling down. But she hasn’t drop the carafe yet. (There is plenty of wine of the floor, but this is not her home so Max doesn’t care in the least.)

“We need to make arrangement and quickly” says Jack. “How soon can you make contact?” he asks Silver.

“All seven of them should be available for a meeting with a few trusted Captains, yes.”

He sounds less enthusiast, subdued somehow.

“Shouldn’t you be the one visiting them?” asks Anne. 

He winces, and she tends to agree. This is too soon for him to leave the island. 

“I’ll go” volunteers Flint; he doesn’t sounds very happy about the prospect of leaving so soon, but this is of utter importance. They all know it.

She checks on Silver and finds him looking devastated. She chokes on her breath and it disappears as soon as it came. He stands up wobbling (Max can’t be sure it’s only caused by the alcohol).

“I will start the letters” he says before leaving them, his crutch firmly under his shoulder.

Flint looks after him, long after he is left. Jack mouths a solid fuck at her and she wants to join him whole heartedly.


	11. New wind

Thomas arrives on an unfamiliar harbor in a familiar island. 

The trip was short and the Captain had visited him, always very polite, to enquire about his well-being. Thomas would have never thought he would meet a pirate so mannered. It took him a while to understand why he was shipped from Savannah to Nassau. Captain Morgan, for all his honesty, was awkward around the reason why he was taken from the plantation. It didn’t take a genius to comprehend the man had no idea himself. The name Long John Silver made an appearance though and it didn’t make sense for Thomas, he had never met the man (it’s been a decade since he met anyone of importance). Why would he ask for him with such insistence is a mystery to him. 

The more he awaited for his journey to end the more he heard about the man: a fury to rival the most fearsome storm, shark teeth that could eat human flesh, a coat of darkness to disguise his leg.

Why would men talk about such a man with so much fondness Thomas doesn’t understand. What would such a man want with him?

He is soon distracted by New Providence beauty; he never dared to dream about it. Her luxurious vegetation hides Nassau and it’s easy to appreciate why pirate would move here: it is nested in between islands and shoals. When the fort appears on the skyline, Thomas realizes it must have a clear view on the horizon whereas any ship would be too preoccupied navigating the deep water to worry about it. 

There is a lot of motion when they get closer, more men on deck than Thomas has seen (he never realized how many pirates lived on the ship, he occasionally sailed before; the British navy employ a lot less men). They stay at the very edge of the Sword’s rig, shouting from time to time. Thomas must see for himself what this is about; he leans on the board, not too far from the Captain (Captain Morgan is very protective of him and they are respecting each other space, but Thomas knows better than testing the limit of his welcome). What he sees amaze him: a gigantic wreck of ship (it must be a least a two-decker) immerged, almost invisible. What kind of island would need such a heavy fortification? 

“I certainly hope they map the wrecks while we were away” he hears Captain Morgan, “we can barely navigate to the harbor as it is.”

“Won’t be able to make it further anyway” answers the Quartermaster (a burly man named M.Weasle if Thomas is not mistaking). “Wind is turning, and typhoon season isn’t far. Fucking Rogers.”

They anchors the ship just a bit further (Thomas is not a great seaman, he has no idea how they will turn back with how narrow the path seems) and the longboat are prepared. 

“We go down first” indicates Captain Morgan. 

Thomas is no fool, he might be without chains but he is still a prisoner.

It doesn’t take long for the longboat to be within range; in front of the busy streets of Nassau, a solitary figure waits for them. Captain Morgan’s back gets straighter the closer they get from the man. 

They disembark and he looks so deferent Thomas cannot hold any doubt toward the man’s identity. It is almost surreal, Thomas was expecting a giant, maybe someone with so many marks on his face he would be almost inhuman. Instead he finds Long John Silver lacking. A small man, hunch on a crutch, pride in his eyes but not so richly clothed he would stand apart from the other pirates. 

The only difference is how Captain Morgan waits for his approval. 

“Your men must be tired” he says sympathetically. “I’ll make sure they receive a decent lodging for the duration of their recovery.”

“You shouldn’t bother Sir, the rascals are only happy when they are at sea. It was all but a stroll for us.”

Long John Silver smiles indulgingly and dismiss the man. 

He is now alone with the man and Thomas cannot help to be curious. 

“Why am I here?” he asks. Long John Silver suddenly stares at him, like he forgot his very existence. Thomas is confused and annoyed; he was wrenched from his daily life. He doesn’t regret it, but it was predictable, simple in a way. He didn’t need to worry about his next meal or who he would face when morning comes. 

“You are blond” says the alleged Pirate King.

(Of all the things he could have say, Thomas would have never foresight this. )

“I understand this is difficult for you but I ask you to be patient” he keeps talking, but nothing he says makes sense. “There is someone I want you to meet.”

A sense of dread soaks him to his core. Is he to be transported to another place? Can’t he be finally at peace? Was his crime so severe he could no longer decide of his own destiny? Desperation has a sour taste on his mouth.

“He should be there in a few days” he says.

Thomas is reasonably certain Long John Silver doesn’t suspect his bargaining chip (this must be what he is now, that is the only possible outcome) to express an opinion. He doesn’t expect him to lounge at him, trying to steal the sword at his belt.

The Pirates looks surprise but it doesn’t last. They both struggle for his sword; Thomas didn’t lead a peaceful life in the plantation, he worked hard every day; he is stronger than ever was since that blasted day; yet he is clearly overpowered by a cripple. Abruptly, when he was about to be pushed aside, three men seize him. He lets out a small cry of protest, he wants to go on his own terms. 

“Don’t hurt him” orders Long John Silver. They all obey and Thomas wants to cry; it’s too much: the fear, the humiliation, the rage. He keeps fighting against the hold, his mind tricks him and sends him back to that horrible place; his struggle becomes more desperate.

“Let him go” he hears and suddenly nobody is touching him anymore. He drops on his knees, exhausted, depleted, unwilling to move. 

“Fuck”

Long John Silver drops his weapons far from Thomas reach and draws closer, his missing leg is angled awkwardly. 

“It’s going to be alright” he says calmly. “I promise, you just have to wait a little longer.”

With all the bravery he has left, Thomas spits in his face. This monster, barely a man, expect him to wait for his demise like a dog. He won’t allow him the pleasure of an easy victory.

“You are not allowed to die” orders Long John Silver and Thomas wishes he was strong enough to tear his eyes out. This man took everything from him (his island, his dreams and now his freedom, or the last scraps he had left).

“Now I will make myself clear” his voice gets louder “You are my guest, I won’t tolerate any harm done to you.” It sounds like a threat to Thomas. 

“I shall wait an hour, or ten, a day if I have to; until you made your peace with it.”

Thomas falls, defeated. He doesn’t have a choice anymore. In this strange and foreign city, his life ends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning : mention of suicidal thought


	12. Go back to basic

When Max enters Silver’s house (Rackham’s, Eleanor’s, never hers) she founds Adeline hiding in a corner of the corridor, her cheek close to the door of Silver’s office (if she didn’t’ knew better, she would think Adeline is eavesdropping). 

Adeline motioned her, her hand too messy to make any sense. Max wants to calm her down when she hears a shuffle. She walks toward the door but Adeline holds her back.

“Angry” she says, her voice rough and unpracticed. She is just strong enough to keep her by her side, afraid Max could get her hurt maybe. Or perhaps afraid for Max herself; since the brothel closed, the girls closed ranks with each other. Max was one of them before she ever was a Madam and they do not forget.

Max understands where the fear comes from, she wants to tell Adeline they are safe but she is terrible with the sign language, Idelle was always the most fluent. She was the one who extracted the knowledge from a French sailor deaf in one ear.

“It’s okay” she mouths. She reaches out for Adeline other hand and put it on her heart.

Adeline relaxes and nods. She points to another door, way further from what sounds to be a hurricane in Silver’s office (but a small one, almost silent).

“Customer” she signs slowly, clear enough for Max to understand. (They used the sign in the brothel when a room was occupied, it was quicker to remember than the whole alphabet. Most of the time Adeline would not entertain their guest, she would wash the sheets and the rooms. It was the first word the girls taught her.)

Max nods and Adeline lets her go.

“Go home” mouths Max. Adeline refuses.

“It’s okay” she repeats and Adeline finally complies. She is trembling when she gets up (and Max understand why she was crouch close to the wall, it vibrates with whatever is going on inside. Adeline was waiting for the hurricane to calm down) and she can’t help to glance at Max every few paces toward the door. 

Once she is gone Max takes a fortifying breath and enters the room. It’s a mess to say the least. The furniture are either knocked over or broken beyond repair. 

“What the fuck happened here?” she asks with her most authoritative voice.

The hurricane called Silver stops, when he looks at her she almost backs down. He is miserable, she can tell.

“Go away” he hisses at her. 

Max straightens her back, ready to fight. She hates when situation gets out of control. 

“You frightened poor Adeline.” Men aren’t especially prone to sentiment but Silver seems to be different. He cares genuinely about the people around him. He recoils a fraction, no doubt feeling guilty about the misdeed. He should feel bad. 

She finds a chair and recovers it among the rubbish. She sits with all the poise she can muster. Silver can rage in the anonymity of his office, alone. However the moment she entered, when she sat on his chair like it was business as usual, he wasn’t Silver anymore, he was King Long John Silver. It is amazing how suggestion is a much powerful tool than violence (or even words).  
He breathes in and out, slowly, deliberately; he is calming down. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be home?” he asks, still too vibrant (not under control yet). “I clearly remember you shouting at me because I keep you too late.”

She smiles with indulgence. “It’s not that late.”

He looks at the clock with a raised eyebrow, it shows two in the morning. She didn’t realize it was this late. Anne will be upset. 

Silver looks calmer, he navigates his crutch on the sea of papers and woods.

“I hope you won’t ask Adeline to clean your mess” she disapproves.

“Of course not” he has the galls to be indignant. She wants to kick him in the crutch and watch him fall. But she knows he won’t. Damn john Silver doesn’t get surprised by any one this days. He supports his right arm on the wall and lean on the window frame. “What do you want?” he asks finally. 

“I heard a rumor” she pretend to be unaffected, “You fought a man in the market today. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine.”

“Obviously” she says while staring at the mess surrounding them. She lets her natural drawl drag the word into sarcasm. 

Max is under no illusion Silver was upfront with her (on many aspect of their relationship she knows he doesn’t trust her, she understands. However she would appreciate to be informed if their fragile balance is upset). 

“I also heard you brought a guest.”

Silver tenses. “It’s none of your business” he says on the defensive. 

So it is a personal matter. She frowns, irritated by his stubbornness. “You might be King but you are not the only one on the throne.” It sounds a lot more threatening than she intended. “You are not alone.” 

He laughs, bitter and too close to hysteria for her taste.


	13. Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's happening !!!!

Silver waits for him on the beach. It’s a first. Flint’s bad mood evaporates instantly. The meetings were dreadful and tiring and he is happy to be home. 

As soon as his feet land he hugs Silver, tries to be a little less needy than last time. It would work if Silver didn’t latch on him like a drowning man. It feels just a bit too much, just a bit wrong. When Silver lets him go, he looks thoughtful. 

“Walk with me” he asks but Flint hears the order below. He follows him (of course he does), the sand tricky under him. (Should he take this as an omen?)

Silver stays silent for twenty paces, but when he talks it‘s so impersonal Flint alarm’s rings loudly in his head. A treacherous part of his mind remembers how he sounds when they thought Madi dead. He tenses and prepare for the worst scenario.

“Before the Skeleton Island” starts Silver, “I had a plan. To prevent you from continuing the war.” 

Flint frowns, confused. “You said you would wait: a day, a month, a year if you had too.”

Silver glances at him, surprised. 

“Did you not expect me to remember?” he asks. 

“No. I just… didn’t realize the words I used were the same” he says cryptic. “That is not the plan I was referring to.”

Cold sweat freezes Flint, he can feel his heartbeat accelerate. The sour taste of betrayal makes him want to puke.

“You were ready to kill me” he acknowledges. 

“No” protest Silver but he thinks about what he wants to say next. “Sort of” he admits.

“Why are you telling me this?” 

Silver dismiss his questions and steps toward the town. 

“There is a place, in Savannah, a plantation. English families created it to send the most undesirable prisoners. Prisoners they could not bear to see so close, hindrances of a sort.” 

He stops walking, expecting Flint to understand where this conversation is going. Flint is just confused and waiting. There is a careful intonation in Silver’s words (one he rarely hears, this is how he talked to the crew when he is hiding his fear, he realizes). 

Whatever Silver was waiting for he didn’t find it, he resumes his walking toward the house. They are not very far from the front steps.

“I found a man there; a man capable of killing Captain Flint.”

Flint wants to bare his teeth in a parody of a smile (like that night around the campfire, when Silver said he would be the end of him). He stays silent until Silver pushes the front door.

“I thought we were beyond trying to kill each other” admits Flint. “Why are you telling me this?”

He is hurt, he will admits he is lost too. Silver looks defeated, a shadow of the man he knows. He leads him to a door (a door they never use). 

“Why?” he hears himself ask. He doesn’t understand. 

“Trust me” answers Silver, almost tenderly. “You are going to be okay.”

He opens the door.

There is a man in the room (the room that is always empty). His back is the only thing Flint can see (he knows the shape of his shoulders). He walks in, the man doesn’t turn (but he knows the curve of his head). 

At first he resists it (the hope), he stops, the man turns (it’s him). They watch each other. They don’t breathe (they can’t). It’s too much, it’s not enough (it’s him).

He cannot believe (he is not strong enough) but soon he can touch him (his shoulder, his neck). The dream is real, he doesn’t let go. He cries (he cannot help it) (Thomas is here). 

“Am I mad?”

They are so close Flint can feel the warmth of his body. He closes his eyes, his scent is so different (but it’s his).

“No” he whispers.

“You are really here” the sound of wonder in Thomas’s voice is a balm on his mind, on all the years of pain.

Thomas is here.

Thomas. 

He feels feverish and his knees give up on the weight of his hope. Thomas holds him (he will never let him go). They breathe each other’s air. James wants this moment to last forever.

“Is Miranda here?” asks Thomas full of hope.

It’s killing him, but he deserves the truth.

“She died a year ago.” 

“A year” repeats Thomas, on shock. “A year.”

The dam breaks, James let the pain flow through him, let the crying clean the tainted part of his soul. 

Thomas is back. Miranda is gone. James breathes. 

He is going to be okay.


	14. Yohoho and a bottle of rum

She finds him alone drinking in what used to be her home. The brothel is quiet now, the girls are hiding or sleeping. Either way he is alone.

She sits in front of him. 

“Who is he?” she asks carefully. 

She realizes she is overstepping. She cannot ask as a business partner or as a political ally (she made sure to not get involved, to keep their relationship strictly professional). But this is the man she chose as her King and what he needs now is not the cold and calculating woman she learnt to be. He needs a friend.

He doesn’t look at her but she knows he will answer; the hurt has stripped him of all his walls, all his protections. 

“Fucking love of his life” he slurs.

She watches him intently. He raises his glass and empties it in one gulp. He is serious. 

He laughs but there is no humor in it. 

She is acutely aware of his vulnerability. One wrong step and she could break him, right this instant. She considers the man in front of her. She has wanted to believe she didn’t need to have faith in him. Silver was mostly a mean to an end, a name she could hide behind and find the true peace she deserved. She had met him when he was a wanderer with nothing in life, she had met him when he smiled so easily she could see the seams of his lies and she had met him when he met himself.

What he did tonight says more about the true John Silver than any speech he could have manufactured. 

(It’s not supposed to happen to her. She is not supposed to be drawn to him.)

“You are either the bravest man I know or the stupidest.”

Silver lets his head drop on the table and he weeps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys and girls and non binary people, this is the end of Part I.
> 
> (I'm sooooooo sorry, I promise it will get better very soon but I needed to get this out of my system. The bandaid is coming I swear !!)
> 
> I won't be posting on Monday since I am taking a break from screen (I've been on my computer and phone a lot this past month) but Tuesday I'll start Part II officially. 
> 
> I love you all. Stay safe <3


End file.
